What Love Tastes Like (17 page)

Tiffany and Joy were quiet as they strolled barefoot in the sand. It was a stunningly beautiful day in California, the late January weather a mild seventy degrees. Deuce built who knew what in the sand several yards away. Lecia created havoc in the pigeon community, offering them no peace as she relentlessly chased them. Every now and then, Joy would look over at her downtrodden friend. Tiffany was often not a woman of many words, but this was the quietest Joy had ever seen her. She'd barely mumbled a coherent sentence while on the phone a few nights earlier, and had said almost nothing on the ride to the beach. Joy broke the silence with an uncharacteristically subdued approach.

“Ready to talk about what happened?” She and Tiffany continued walking, the quiet broken up only by the crashing waves, a screeching bird call, or occasional shouts from the volleyball players on the nets nearby. It wasn't her style, but Joy waited. She could tell that now was not the time to be her direct, rambunctious self.

“It never would have worked. He's just like Dad.”

Joy waited a moment before responding, watched a pair of bikers zooming down the path. “It worked for a while,” she said quietly.

Tiffany shrugged. They remained silent and walked.

Finally, Tiffany stopped, pulled out the towel that was in her tote bag, spread it on the ground, and sat down. She picked up handfuls of sand and watched the tiny grains spill from her fingers back to the earth.

“Deuce, don't go so far out in the water! Lecia, come here and let me put some more sunblock on you.” After spreading lotion on Lecia's face, arms, and legs, Joy handed Lecia the juice box she'd asked for and then turned her attention back to Tiffany. “What changed, Tiffany? Between the time you met him and last Thursday night, what happened?”

Another long moment passed before Tiffany answered. “I remember when I first saw him,” she said with a sad smile. “Sitting in first class, looking like a million-dollar bill. My first thought was…could anybody really look that good?” Tiffany laughed, but the sound held no trace of happiness. “My second thought was that he was out of my league. Then I lost my purse…and he helped me. I don't know what I would have done without him. My third thought, though, was that he reminded me of my father. That's the thought I should have focused on. If I had, I wouldn't feel like I do right now…like there's a stake in my heart.”

“Mama, can I have one of those juice boxes, and some potato chips?”

“Boy, stop dripping that cold water on me!”

Deuce responded by shaking his hair and spraying the remainder of water in it over the ladies. Joy laughed. Tiffany didn't react at all.

“Here, boy.”

“No, Mama, I want grape.”

“No, you want to drive me crazy, that's what you want. Here!”

“Thanks, Mama.”

Joy had barely packed the food back in its container when Lecia ran up. “Mama, Deuce won't share his food!”

Joy mumbled under her breath while pulling out a couple of individual bags of chips, some cookies, and some Now and Laters. “Here. Now, I want you and your brother to leave me alone. Take this towel and you guys sit over there. Tiffany and I are talking.”

While Joy took care of her children, Tiffany's eyes fastened on a couple strolling hand in hand down the beach. The woman said something to the man; he laughed and began chasing her. When he caught her, they tumbled in the sand and began kissing. Tiffany's eyes watered, but she quickly dried the tears and turned away.

“I can see how Nick might remind you of your father in some ways,” Joy said. “They're both in business, and from what you've told me of Nick and what I know of your dad, very motivated. But that didn't seem to stop you guys from hanging out, and to hear you tell it, having a very good time. So what happened, Tiffany, to have you cut and run all of a sudden?”

Tiffany reminded Joy that she was sitting next to her in Venice, California, instead of hanging out in Rome with Nick, as she was supposed to have been. She told her about Nick's meeting in New York. She omitted the fact that he'd invited her to join him. “He put business first, before me, before our vacation. It didn't matter that it had been planned since before the holidays. I grew up without a father around; I sure as hell don't plan to be in a relationship where my man is MIA.”

“Let me ask you something. Say there was a cooking opportunity, one that if handled successfully would give you the opportunity of a lifetime…to open your own restaurant. You'd have the building, the money, everything…but you had to go to this meeting for it to happen. Here you are, just a trip away from your dreams, but lo and behold, the meeting is the same time you and Nick are taking a vacation. Are you saying that you would pass up that chance and go on vacation? Or would you explain how important the meeting was to you, and ask Nick if y'all could postpone your rendezvous until later?”

Several long moments went by before Tiffany responded. “You know what, Joy?”

“What?”

“You get on my damn nerves.”

Joy hid her smile. “You're welcome.”

She should have felt rejuvenated and refreshed. Isn't that how one was supposed to feel after a vacation? Especially since she and Janice had enjoyed a girls' day at Burke Williams, where they'd been patted and pampered from head to toe. Instead, Tiffany felt more tired than ever and her nerves were on edge. She hadn't had a good night's sleep since leaving Nick, and especially since after calming down, it had occurred to her that she might not have a job. That day, she'd almost called him. But it felt hypocritical. She'd ended their relationship because of Nick's focus on his career, so now to call him about her job instead of their relationship seemed…well…as if she was putting business first

So here she sat, in Hotel Le Sol's employee parking lot, looking at the back door and dreading going in. If she had been fired, would Nick have called her? For sure, Chef Wang would have. It was the million-dollar question: did she or didn't she still have a job?
There's only one way to find out.

Amber was the first person Tiffany encountered. “Hey you!” she said, giving Tiffany a hug. “Welcome back! How was your vacation?”

“Long.” Tiffany hadn't intended to respond so honestly, but it was the truth, anyhow.

“Whoa, that's not an answer I expected. But then again, it is hard to live without people like me.”

Tiffany laughed, and Amber continued, filling her in on what had been happening in her absence. Amber's sunny personality was catching, even through the thunderstorm otherwise known as Tiffany's mood. Her steps were a bit lighter as she continued to her locker, donned her chef coat, and proceeded to the kitchen.

“Chef!” Roger walked over and cupped Tiffany's chin with his flour-laden hand.

“Roger, you jerk!”

“Ha! Missed you, too. And hey, you'd look good as a white chick!”

“Shut up! You're disgusting.” His “disgusting” ways had widened the smile initiated by Amber's chatter.

Chef Wang barely looked up from the dish he was plating. “Hi, Tiffany. Feel good?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Need one hundred scallops prepared for bar. Different kinds. Chop, chop!”

Now the feeling on the inside matched the smile on the outside. Tiffany was back in her element, and she still had a job.

Five hours later, Tiffany was still turning out plates, with only a ten-minute break. She wasn't complaining. The work felt good. It gave her something else to focus on besides Nick. But now, as the lull after lunch and before dinner began, so did the ramping up of her thoughts. Was Nick here, at the hotel? Was he still thinking about her? Did he meet someone else while in New York?
Maybe he used Angelica's shoulder to cry on.
That last thought really put a frown on Tiffany's face, especially with the news Amber had shared while Tiffany rested her feet in the break room. Angelica had dined at Taste just after Tiffany had gone on vacation. According to Amber, she came in with three other ladies, all acting as if they'd put the “d” in divas. Unfortunately for Amber, they sat in her station. According to her they were rude, demanding, and after sitting in their booth for almost three hours, left a puny tip! Tiffany was only partly glad that she'd not been here to cook for them. Had she been present, she might have been tempted to spit in Angelica's food! Not that Tiffany would actually follow through on this desire, she was too much of a professional. At least that's what she'd thought while listening to Amber. But now, thinking about it again, she wasn't so sure.

Nick was out of her life, so what Angelica or any of his other exes did was none of her business. Still, she couldn't help but be curious as to the turn of events that had Angelica hanging out at the hotel.
To get back with one of the owners, perhaps?
That would explain why Angelica had told Nick about some new male friend who wanted to check out the restaurant, and then conveniently showed up with her girlfriends. Tiffany would have been happy to never again see Angelica in the Taste dining room but when asked, it had seemed petty to tell Nick it wasn't okay for her to visit. It was a public place and a free country. Angelica could do whatever she wanted. So could Nick. Nick…Angelica…none of her business. If she kept telling herself that, she deduced, maybe she'd eventually believe it.

The “none of my business” mantra wasn't working. As Tiffany walked back into the kitchen, she wondered if Nick was back at work. Had he had time to chill out after his meetings? They were so important to him; how did they go? Was Nick able to carve out some time to chill, and if he was able to relax, did he stay in New York, or worse, did he end up flying to Rome without her?

And then there was the probing question Joy had posed. How would Tiffany have felt if Nick got pissed and broke things off because of an action she felt was important, even pivotal, to her career?
How would I be feeling about that right about now?
While a part of her felt justified in the actions she'd taken, another part of her felt unreasonable. Tiffany realized she'd been selfish and shortsighted when Nick canceled their vacation. She'd been so angry when he told her. It was only much later that she remembered how he'd encouraged her to go and enjoy Italy without him.
Whatever I remember about him doesn't matter now. What's done is done. Nick is probably happy to be rid of me.

 

Nick sat in his office idly twirling a paperweight. He'd wrapped up early in New York but instead of hanging out in one of his favorite cities, he'd flown back to LA and returned to work early. He wasn't one for a lot of idle downtime, and without Tiffany, that's exactly how the week would have felt. So after a two-day DC side trip to see his sister, brother-in-law, and their children, Nick was back in his office, trying to hang on to the deal.

Nick set the weight on his desk, leaned back, and clasped his hands behind his head. What had happened? Who was this other group that had seemingly gotten the upper hand in negotiations with the businessmen from China? Nick and Bastion had thought their becoming partners with them was as good as done—at least that's how they'd felt after their week-long trip to China in December. Nick was almost sure J.P. Morgan was backing them financially; his contacts at Citicorp hadn't come up with anything. Nick knew from experience that someone moving a billion dollars couldn't hide too easily from those with access. Still, the New York trip had been successful. Nick and his boys were still negotiating, but the partners in China had made it clear that they were weighing both proposals. One wrong move and Nick, Bastion, and the other associates could topple to second place in the negotiations. Unfortunately, in this particular game, first place was the only one that mattered.

Nick rocked forward and picked up the paperweight. He knew Tiffany was down in the kitchen but he'd be damned if he sought her out. In the forty years he'd been on the planet, he'd never chased a woman. He didn't intend to start now. Nick smirked as he imagined Tiffany's focused intention as she was indirectly working for a man she despised. For the first time Nick had an employee who dared defy him, one he couldn't control, though firing her had crossed his mind. But Nick would never play the game that way. Personal was personal and business was business. Tiffany was an excellent sous chef. Wang had mentioned during their last meeting how well they worked together in the kitchen. The sous chef was an important component in how the service to his dining room ran. Tiffany's
amuse-bouche
idea had been copied by a competitor restaurant, one that would probably like nothing more than to have her in their kitchen. No, he wouldn't jeopardize the positive buzz his restaurant was receiving over a personal issue.

“Mr. Rollins?” Christina's voice interrupted Nick's thoughts.

“What?”

“Angelica is on line two, sir.”

Nick's pause was brief before he picked up the phone.

“Angelica.”

“Happy New Year, Nick!”

“Oh, I guess we haven't talked since then. Happy New Year.”

“Except…yours doesn't sound too happy. And that is absolutely no way for a man as magnificent as you are to sound. Tell me who did what so I can kick their ass!”

Nick laughed. “I think I can take care of myself.” Nick couldn't deny the fact that Angelica was good for stroking a man's ego. Tiffany liked to show her love more than express it, but Angelica had always made Nick feel as if he was the most important thing in her world. He missed feeling that way. “So, besides the well wishes, to what do I owe this phone call?”

“Not much, just thinking about you. I just arrived back in town from Chicago, where I've been for the past three weeks.”

“Oh, yeah? You and dude pretty hot and heavy, huh?”

“He's a good man, this guy. I think I'll try and hang on to him. Not let him get away the way another one-of-a-kind man slipped through my fingers. He'll remain nameless,” she hurried on. “No need to get all caught up in the details.”

Nick and Angelica kept talking and, for the first time since breaking up over a year prior, fell into the easy banter they used to regularly enjoy. Angelica was full of witty quips, and had the latest lowdown on all the LA insiders. She told him about a married-with-children, A-list, African American actor who was carrying on with his male agent, and floored him with the news of a forty-year-old singer carrying a twenty-three-year-old basketball star's baby.

“Uh-oh, another Usher and what's her name?”

“Tameka…but no. There was only ten years between those two; this woman could have
birthed
Jamal. Hey, Nick. I was on my way to Stanfords to grab a bite. Have you eaten?”

“Not since a late breakfast.”

“Cool. Meet you there in, say…half an hour?”

“More like forty-five minutes, but yeah, I'll see you there.”

Angelica dressed to impress and literally danced out of her front door.